


And Love Will Forever Reign

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/F - Category, M/M, Romance, Series, other pairing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:32:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And so the series ends</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Love Will Forever Reign

## And Love Will Forever Reign

by J.C.

Author's website:  [http://www.skeeter63.org/jayci/jcmain.html ](http://www.skeeter63.org/jayci/jcmain.html)

The characters from the TV series "The Sentinel" are not my property, and I am not making money off of them. But some of the people herein definitely belong to me. That's it.

Well, I started this series almost two years ago, and now Jim/Blair and   
Griff/Nick and even Simon/Giselle get to tie up some loose ends and let me wrap this baby up. Thanks to everyone that continually asked for more, especially where the original characters were concerned.it gave me something to pick up and work on lately to distract myself during a rather rough time. Hope you enjoy.

This is the final story in the Light and Shadows series and will make much more sense if you've read the previous installments in order to follow how events have unfolded and get acquainted with the original characters involved. Those stories can be found either at the archive or on my site.

This story is a sequel to: [The Past Won't Be Missed](1_2000_series/pastwont.)

* * *

And Love Will Forever Reign by J.C. 

For what had to be the hundredth time, Jim Ellison decided that it was all Blair's fault. In the time that he'd had control over his senses, Jim had learned to filter his reception of what would be private; the personal data constantly floating around him. Blair was the one who had said that if _he_ had the heightened senses, he would probably listen in on people now and again. For a while now, as if Blair had implanted the idea, Jim found himself occasionally slipping, picking up input he ordinarily would have ignored. All Blair's fault, that three quarters of his brain had stopped in the middle of trying to read the mangled handwriting of some letters in evidence from his latest case, and focused in on Rhonda across the room, saying, "Captain Banks, Griffin Paris on line four." The remaining fourth of his brainpower tuned in when Griff's voice came through from behind Simon's door, tinny and distant sounding, but with an unmistakable fierceness. 

"Tell me you didn't know, Simon. Tell me it's that you had no clue, and not that you found out and turned your back on her." 

"What the hell are you talking about? Something's going on with Giselle? I've been trying to get in touch with her, but she hasn't been returning my calls." 

"She's in the hospital." 

Jim turned in his seat, facing Simon's door, as much because of Griff's bleak tone as the words themselves. 

"She's been in and out of consciousness, and she's lost a lot of blood." 

Barely hearing Blair's murmur of concerned curiosity, Jim got to his feet. 

"And she's pregnant, Simon. About eighteen weeks." 

Jim tried to take a step, but Blair was tugging on him, asking what was wrong. 

"It's--" Jim began, only to snap his mouth shut at the pained 'What?' from Simon. 

"It's not looking good," Griff was saying. "Just so you know," he added before abruptly hanging up. 

"Chief, there's a problem." 

Simon's door opened, and Simon called, "Sandburg!" at the same moment that Jim's phone started ringing. 

"Ellison," Jim said, answering the call automatically. 

"Jim, it's me." Odd to suddenly hear Griff's voice clearly in his ear. "Giselle is in the hospital." 

Jim swallowed the impulse to say, 'Yeah, I heard', and made himself listen as Griff told him basically what had already been told to Simon, who at that moment was interrogating one Blair Sandburg about possessing prior knowledge of Giselle's situation without passing it along. 

"You didn't have any idea?" Jim asked Griff, at almost exactly the same time that Simon asked Blair, and heard the answer "no" in stereo through the phone and from behind Simon's door. 

"I just talked to Simon. He said Gigi had stopped talking to him. You think that's true?" 

"All I know is that she canceled his last visit. He didn't make it like it was a big deal, but he usually doesn't talk a lot about private stuff. If he thought she was pulling back from him, he probably would have kept it to himself. He admitted to me once that he was...worried something like that might happen." 

For a moment, Jim could only hear Griff breathe, then Griff said, "Well, I'm worried, too. About Gigi...the baby. Shit, she didn't even want me to call Mom." 

"She's going to be okay though, right?" 

"God, I hope so. Look, I'll be touch when I know more, okay?" 

"Yeah, okay, keep us posted." 

Jim hung up and immediately headed for Simon's office. He paused only long enough to knock once before walking in. Two heads turned to face him, Blair looking stunned, Simon's expression unreadable. 

"I just got off the phone with Griff," Jim announced. "Simon, are you okay?" 

Simon's face twisted in a grimace. "What do you think, Jim?" The words hung harshly in the air for a second, then Simon rubbed his face tiredly, "Sorry, sorry. You didn't know anything about this, either?" 

"Not a clue." 

"Do you want me to go get Joel, and have Rhonda bring in the leave forms?" Blair cut in. 

"What are you babbling about, Sandburg?" 

"To make your emergency leave official, and so you can put Joel in charge while you're gone." 

"I'm not going anywhere." 

"Simon--" Jim and Blair both started, but Simon raised a hand. 

"Use your heads, gentlemen. There's an obvious reason that she's been avoiding me and didn't tell me about her condition." 

"No offense," Blair said, "but _couldn't_ it be yours? I mean, did you always, you know...?" 

"Anything's possible, but, yes, we always--" Simon's mouth suddenly snapped shut. 

"Right. Look, Simon, I don't know why she didn't come clean with you, but regardless, she's in the _hospital_ , man, and you should be there." 

"Leave it alone, Sandburg." 

"I know it's a difficult situation," Jim spoke up, "but you know how you feel about her--" 

Simon stood. "That'll be _all_ , detective. Both of you get back to work." 

As they left the office, Blair turned back. "You should go, Simon. I think you'll regret it if you don't." Back at their desks, he said to Jim, "You know, we have off this weekend, plus if we talk to Rafe and Brown we could probably finagle an extra day since we worked Labor Day for them last month." 

Nodding grimly, Jim picked up the phone. "I'm on it," he said, dialing to check on flights. 

With their plans made, they tried to focus their attention back on work, half-heartedly plowing through the rest of the documents from the Lassiter evidence box. 

"Do you think we should try to get through to Simon again?" Blair finally asked. 

Before he could answer, Jim heard Simon from the intercom on Rhonda's desk, saying, "Rhonda, can you send Taggert in to see me, and when I'm done with him, I need you to step into my office." 

"I think something already got through, Chief." 

Blair gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, accompanied by a sad little smile, and they worked for the rest of the afternoon in heavy silence. 

* * *

As soon as Jim and Blair got off of the hospital elevator, they spotted Simon sitting hunched over on a worn vinyl couch, wearing the same suit as when they'd last seen him, though it was considerably more rumpled. His eyes were dark and cheerless, his face noticeably fatigued. 

Nick Alvarez was in a chair nearby, and he rose, shaking Jim's hand and greeting Blair with a hug, mumbling something about having had enough of hospitals. 

"Me too, Nicky, me too," Blair replied. "Any news?" 

"Nothing new, except they gave her more blood, and they're trying to get her fever down. Griff's in her room now." 

Jim walked over to Simon. "How are you holding up, Simon?" 

Simon shrugged, a gesture weighty with resignation. "She looks...pale," he finally said, though Jim got the impression that maybe that wasn't what Simon had intended to say. "She wasn't awake when I was in there. I don't think I should be here, Jim." 

"Whatever's going on between you two doesn't change how worried you are. You'd be no good anywhere else right now." 

Jim heard the pounding beat of Griff's heart before the man actually appeared in the waiting area. Almost as one, they all got to their feet, anticipation evident on their faces. 

"The doctor's with her now," Griff said. "She has an infection, but they can't pinpoint where, and she's not responding to the antibiotics." He had spoken to the group, but he turned his attention to Simon, glaring, and the air thickened with tension. 

"Griff," Jim whispered, gripping Griff's arm, pulling him off to the side. "He didn't know. He didn't turn his back on her." 

Hardly placated, Griff responded, "Then what did he do that would make her not turn to him?" 

"Gigi's a grown woman, you know, capable of making her own decisions, good and bad." 

"Yeah, whatever, Jim." Griff turned away, leaning against the wall, facing down the hall towards his sister's room. 

After a few moments, he sat down, and the rest followed suit, all losing themselves in out-of-date magazine articles, brochures on hospital services, and their own brittle thoughts of how the past year had led them there. 

* * *

* * *

The January temperatures had taken a sudden drop, but Griff turned down the heat before going to collect his lover, hoping to convince him to come to bed and help keep things warm. Unnoticed, he slipped into their office, watching Nick deep in concentration, feeling the same potent thrill that he'd felt in those first days after hiring Nick, when he would be scribbling out new chapters, while Nick typed in previous ones. Long days and dream-filled nights up at the lake house that he'd spent trying not to fall in love with the lean, beautiful young man that had been introduced into his life. Failed miserably on that score, he thought, grinning to himself as he moved closer. 

"Another letter to your mother?" he asked, finally drawing Nick's attention. 

Nick nodded, folding the pages and putting them into an envelope. 

"Inviting her to our thing?" 

"Our 'thing'?" Nick grinned, "Yeah, I told her I'd send her a ticket if she wanted to be here, but she probably won't answer this letter, either." 

Griff changed the subject, always unsure how to tactfully address the problem of Nick's mother. "You sure you're okay with Gigi's idea?" 

"Yeah, sounded pretty good to me." 

Griffin's sister, Giselle, had moved back to New York a few weeks earlier, ending a year long stay in Cascade where she had been working on an art project commissioned by Rainier University. Currently, she was hard at work putting together an exhibit that would be held in the spring at a gallery run by a friend of hers. But, after weeks of nagging her brother about his plans, she had come up with her own idea of chartering a yacht for Griff and Nick's commitment ceremony, a moonlight cruise and a catered dinner for the small party of family and friends that would be attending. And since the two men hadn't already agreed on anything, Giselle had politely pressured them into doing it her way. 

"But I think you might want to forget the idea of having everyone go fishing afterwards," Nick added, smirking affectionately. 

"That was just a _joke_. But, I did mean what I said before. We don't have to have a ceremony or anything. What's important to me is just us being together." 

"Back out now and Giselle might have Simon shoot you." 

Griff let out a little snort. "Yeah, she might, but it's not about her, right? It's about us." 

"Griffin, your _mother's_ going to be there, so you don't get to chicken out." Reaching out, he took Griff's hand. "Cold feet?" 

"No, no way," Griff said, pulling Nick out of the chair and into his arms. "Just...just don't want you to feel pressured about it. I trust you when you say you want to be here. You don't have to make any grand gestures for me." 

"Okay, but we're doing it anyway. I asked you and I'm not taking it back. Besides, it'll be a nicely symbolic way for us to start over after that what we went through this last year. And since Giselle wants to plan it, all we have to do is show up." 

"We do have to write our vows, don't forget." 

"Should be a piece of cake for a talented man like yourself. I already have mine done." 

"Really? Let me read it." 

Nick tapped his temple with one finger. "Not possible...it's all up here." 

"I'll tell you mine, if you'll tell me yours." 

Chuckling softly, Nick put his arms around his lover. "No deal. But, I'll let you take me to bed." 

Tilting his head, Nick invited a kiss, and Griff readily accepted. When their lips met, it was sweet and familiar, but no less exciting than that first time just over a year ago. So much had happened between them, Griff felt lucky to be standing there, still able to dip his tongue inside Nick's mouth, make Nick moan and rub against him. 

"You know, Nico," Griff whispered, licking a trail to Nick's ear, "it just occurred to me that Gigi's gone." He nibbled on Nick's neck, turning any smart remark that Nick might have made into a groan of pleasure. "I mean," he continued, " _gone_. As in from now on we have the place to ourselves. _All_ to ourselves." Pulling away, he slipped his hands under Nick's sweatshirt, sliding them upwards, taking the shirt with them. 

"So, obviously, you have something in mind," Nick said, when his shirt was dropped to the floor. 

"Well, I thought we'd start in the kitchen and work our way through the place." Griff took Nick by the shoulders and pushed him from the room. 

"Right now? All in one night?" Nick asked with a sexy laugh. 

"We can start tonight," Griff said, pushing Nick against the wall in the hallway, hands shoving Nick's pants down, "but I wouldn't be surprised if it took quite a few nights work...and some days, too." 

Nick had no argument against that, and not surprisingly, they didn't quite make it to the kitchen that night. 

* * *

"I can't believe that we got gifts", Blair said, sounding both pleased and embarrassed, his head down, not looking Jim's way. 

"Somehow, I think matching flannel boxers from H with 'Horn Dog' embroidered on the fly constitute more of a joke than a gift, Chief." 

"Megan gave us a card," Blair pointed out, giving Jim a quick glance. 

"She gave _everyone_ a card." 

"Yeah, but she gave _us_ a card, as opposed to one to you and another to me. Plus," Blair added, now grinning openly, "Simon gave us Jags tickets." 

"Only because he'll be away visiting Gigi and won't be able to go," Jim said, looking around the bullpen, grateful that this Valentine's Day Major Crimes hadn't been inundated with an explosion of flowers. Instead, the air was rich with the scent of chocolate. 

Blair shrugged. "Fine, maybe I'm being a little ridiculous, but it's kind of nice to feel like the idea of us together is being acknowledged. That it's, you know, okay with people." 

It had been a year since they had exchanged rings, had a little get-together at the loft to announce it to their friends. A year that had had a few definite bumps, but together they had made it through. 

"So, any regrets?" Blair asked. 

"Only that I wasted so much time in the first place," Jim answered, surprised that he'd said it out loud, and not a little embarrassed, though they both knew that he had harbored feelings for Blair long before Blair had finally made a move on him. For a few seconds, he avoided Blair's gaze, and then glanced up to find Blair's whole face lit up, looking pleased and lovestruck, endearingly goofy. He rolled his eyes, but grinned back. "Finish that up, Casanova, so we can get out of here." 

"Got anything in mind on how to celebrate?" 

Jim arched an eyebrow. "You mean besides the two tickets to tomorrow night's basketball game in my pocket?" 

"Okay, I get it. No candlelight dinner, no soft music. I guess that means I won't be getting any roses, either." 

"Did you _want_ roses?" Jim asked, frowning. 

"No, actually," Blair said, wagging his eyebrows a little, "I want to get the heater fixed in my car." 

Jim smiled with his eyes and a corner of his mouth, feeling smug that he had already arranged the service. "I can see that happening." He nudged Blair's arm with his thumb, rubbing a little. "And I did have a little something in mind for tonight..." 

He stopped, attention diverted by two people who looked his way as they left the bullpen, a detective he'd known for a number of years, and a young guy that he knew had been newly assigned to Vice. He tried to zoom in on their faces as they waited for the elevator, but instead picked up on their conversation. 

"...a couple?" The words were dripping with incredulity. 

"Yes, Hillman, they are a couple." The answer was made in a surprisingly matter-of-fact tone. "Ellison's record speaks for itself, you couldn't ask for anyone better to have your back." 

"Yeah, right. His partner isn't even a cop." 

"Sandburg holds his own. And, if I were you, I'd watch it. Ellison always seems to have not just eyes in the back of head, but ears, too." 

As the elevator closed on the two men, Jim pulled back, to find Blair staring at him. 

"What's up, Jim?" 

"Uh...just thinking." At Blair's disbelieving expression, he added, "Thinking about the drive that I want you to take with me this weekend." 

Not entirely a lie. There was something that he had been mulling over lately, selling the loft and finding a new place for the two of them, and he had somewhere in mind for Blair to see. Blair's features relaxed, accepting his words, and Jim felt a warmth suffuse him, as if all was right with world, despite the narrow-minded attitude of some rookie detective. 

"Do your work, Junior. Dinner's on you tonight." 

"I hope you mean that literally," Blair replied in that lust-roughened tone that Jim had yet to build up a resistance against. 

Fighting a blush, and trying to ignore the twitch in his pants, Jim didn't comment, but concentrated on his own work, thinking that Blair's suggestion didn't sound like a bad way to celebrate at all. 

* * *

"Hello." 

"Hi, Giselle, it's me." 

"Hey, Simon." 

"How are you?" 

"I'm doing good. How about you?" 

"Fine, but I've got some bad news." 

"Uh oh, does that mean that I won't be seeing you this weekend?" 

"The only place I'll be seen is on the evening news." 

"What? What's going on?" 

"An off-duty officer was killed at a Wonderburger about a week ago. A witness reported that it seemed the cop tried to intercept a guy who went in to rob the place. Terrible that a man survives eight years on the job, only to get shot because he wanted a burger at one in the morning. Anyway, early this morning, another off-duty cop was killed. Looks like the two cases are linked, and that there may be other targets. Needless to say, the pressure's on now, and it's landed in Major Crime. I'll be giving the obligatory 'No comment, but the investigation is ongoing' press conference. And I have to be here to supervise things." 

"You be careful." 

"I'm mostly a desk man these days, remember? I leave the superhero stuff to people like Jim." 

"You make him be careful, too." 

"Will do." 

Giselle sighed softly. "Well, I'm sorry you won't get to come out." 

"Me too, I was looking forward to it. And as soon as this gets all wrapped up, I'll make new arrangements. But, I'll see you when you come here for your brother's ceremony, and I definitely plan on being there when your exhibit opens." 

"I'll be getting a whole week out of you then, right? Not that I haven't enjoyed the weekends that you've managed to visit since I've been back here." 

"I'm using vacation time. The first time in years that I haven't gone fishing." 

"Sorry, but Griff is the fisherman in our family." 

"Somehow, I don't think I'll miss it." 

"Good," Giselle said, a smile clearly in her voice. "You know, I could always come there for a few days now." 

"That would be nice, but there's no telling what my schedule will be like until this guy is caught. I might not be able to spend much time with you." 

"Okay, well, just call me when you get a chance. Oh yeah, I should probably warn you that my mother can't wait to meet you." 

"Checking me out, huh?" 

"No. Well...maybe a little, but you probably won't even notice." She laughed, making Simon laugh, too. "Don't worry, she won't be giving you a hard time about marriage or kids or anything. She's just looking forward to seeing you in person." 

"I...I wish I was going to be there Friday." 

"I'll see you soon." 

"Yeah, and I better go now. I have an early day tomorrow." 

"Okay, bye, Simon." 

"I'll call you. Bye." 

Simon reached for a cigar, mostly out of habit, since he didn't actually light it, and hung up the phone, hating his job in a way he'd never thought he would. Being apart from Giselle had resulted in frequent thoughts like that. The realization that he had long been tired of all of the bureaucratic, political bullshit that came with being a captain, and that despite being proud that he could still hold his own in the field when he had to, he didn't want to be in the thick of the action anymore, either. The job just didn't make him happy the way it once had. His ex-wife would have loved the new him, he thought, feeling vaguely guilty about the Simon Banks that no longer felt the desire to be on the job twenty-four/seven, that had learned to derive satisfaction from being with the people in his life. 

The _woman_ in his life. If that's what Giselle Paris actually was. Well, she was to him anyway. He hadn't been with anyone else as long as he'd known her, or, to be honest, for quite a while before that. And, though he didn't think that she was seeing anyone else, either, they had never directly declared any commitment, so he could only go on assumptions, which probably wasn't the best course of action. Every day he regretted not asking her to stay, not telling her how much he cared about her... _loved_ her. He had been trying so hard to be interested, but not pressuring, because Giselle was young, free-spirited, and he hadn't wanted to chase her away. 

But, maybe on his next visit, he decided, he would do something... _tell_ her something. Let her know how deeply his feelings ran, how just hearing her voice, or seeing her smile vibrated strongly within him. And make sure that she understood that it wasn't about the sex, though he definitely craved that as well. 

Images flashed in his mind, and he felt a slight stirring in his pants. It had been difficult at first not to feel like a dirty old man at how excited she made him, the lush curves of her body, the indescribable blend of her innocence and passion. He didn't get a kick out of her being so much younger, in fact, it had scared him at first, but he did like her petite size, how she fit just so next to him. He had vivid erotic memories of making love to her. The rush he got from her smooth, caramel skin; her sweet, dusky scent; her tight, slick heat. Resolutely ignoring the urge to push his hand inside his pants and stroke himself right there on his couch, he got up, turning out lights and tending the fire, telling himself that he what he needed was a good night's sleep. As usual, duty would call very early in the morning. 

In his bedroom, he undressed, pulling on a pair of pajama pants, wondering if Giselle would be going to bed alone. When she had been in Cascade, it had been easy to imagine she would always be a part of his life...even Darryl liked her. 

'And I let her just leave,' he thought bitterly, 'and go all the way across the country without her ever knowing everything...anything.' But the next time he saw her, he could remedy that somehow. Right then, the outcome was a confused blur of possibilities, but it was enough for Simon to settle down and get to sleep. 

* * *

Jim walked into Interrogation Room Four, closing the door firmly behind him, willing away any apprehension. 

"Hey," he said, dragging a chair from one end of the scarred table closer to where his brother was sitting. "Sorry to make you come down here like this, but you said it was important and with this case I've got..." 

"Yeah, no problem, Jim, it's fine. We keep missing each other, so this works." 

"So..." Jim said, focusing full on Stephen's face, wincing a little as a sudden burst of sound from the bullpen hit him. Quickly, he adjusted, cursing the pressure of a fucked-up case, now with five dead cops, and the anxiety of wondering what the hell kind of family malfunction would make Stephen spend the past few weeks trying to track him down. 

"Well, I guess I could have done this over the phone, but... Anyway, I was wondering if you...you and Blair would be interested in buying my house up at the lake. You guys spend more time there than I do and--" 

'That's it?' Jim thought, battling anger and relief, and then realized that he'd voiced his thought out loud. 

"Yeah, um, no, the thing is that I'm going away." 

"Where to this time?" 

"Japan. For three years. At least." 

"Three years?" 

"It's a golden opportunity, Jim." 

"But..." His thoughts turned to his father. 

As if reading Jim's mind, Stephen said, "I was hoping you'd be able to look after Dad. I mean, you've been getting along so much better, spending more time together. He's loving it, Jim, really." 

Jim didn't know what to say. His old insecurities kept him from getting his hopes up, getting too used to the idea of a good relationship with William Ellison. One day at a time, he'd decided, though he felt a faint sense of joy every time that he and his father parted still on speaking terms. 

"He's my father, too, Stephen. I wouldn't just--" But he had walked away once, no matter how justified. "Yeah, I'll take care of it. I'll keep an eye on him. He'll miss you, though." 

Stephen shrugged. "He's got two sons. We all need to remember that. And I'll keep in touch. So, what do you think about the house?" 

"At the lake? I don't know. I love it there, but Blair and I have sort of been house hunting, kicking around the idea of selling the loft and buying something else, but the lake house is too far for an everyday commute." 

Jim and Blair had been looking at places off and on, but mostly off. So far they hadn't been able to agree on where or how big or how much. Jim's first idea of Harbor's Point, a relatively new development just outside of town on the bay had been shot down--too 'developed' in Blair's words. 

"Hmm, well, how about I just sign it over to you? You pick up the rest of the mortgage payments and we'll leave it at that?" 

"Let me talk to Blair and get back to you." 

"Sure. And you know," Stephen said, pushing his chair back with a scraping sound and standing, "you two could always move in with Dad. He's got that big old house all to himself. I'm sure he'd enjoy the company." 

Stunned, Jim stood, briefly picturing all of the horrible ways that could turn out. He narrowed his gaze as Stephen's mouth began to twitch. 

"You're fucked-up, Stevie," he said, letting his own face ease into a grin. 

"That's what little brothers are for, Jimmy." 

They hugged, and, to Jim's surprise, it didn't feel forced at all. 

"I'm glad that you and Dad are doing okay", Stephen said, stepping back. "I'm just sorry that you and me never seem to find much time." 

"Bigshot businessman, hotshot cop," Jim said with a shrug. 

"Yeah, I guess." But Stephen's voice sounded old and sad. 

"Stevie...I always thought you'd be better off without me. That with Dad...that by yourself..." 

"Maybe I was, but, you know, I missed you, and I hated you for that, I think. It's nice to feel something like a family again." 

Old demons, Jim thought, still lurking in the shadows, and the Ellison men still weren't quite comfortable with loving each other. 

"Jim!" Blair burst into the room. "We gotta go _now_!" 

Jim bit back what he had been about to say, already rushing around the table, sure that the urgency could only be in reference to one thing. "Stephen," he called over his shoulder, "call me before you go." And then he was in the bullpen, joining the crowd gathered around Simon. 

"Okay, here's Ellison." 

"Is it another one?" Jim asked. 

"Attempted," Simon answered. "The perp got away, but he's hurt, shot in a struggle with his intended victim. Right now he's in the middle of a hostage situation in a Quik Mart. And, evidently, this guy's an ex-cop. Okay, people, you know the drill. We are going to bring this guy _in_. Jim, the ball's in your court." 

Jim knew what that meant, he had the edge and Simon was counting on him to come through. No problem, he'd been doing it for years now. But, at the scene, he couldn't quite focus, his vision wouldn't zoom in clearly, even with Blair talking him through it. He hadn't needed that hands-on treatment in a long time. Luckily, he could pick up the voices, and with a herculean effort in concentration, he finally got the visual under control long enough to make his move, though it gave him a headache. After that, the rest happened so fast but, thankfully, smoothly, and the perp was taken into custody with only a stray shot fired. 

When Blair questioned Jim later about why it seemed he had been having trouble that day, it was easy enough to blame his headache on long hours and the stress of making a successful bust. Blair stared at him just long enough to make him start feeling uncomfortable, but then let it go. Relieved, Jim went to bed, seeking some much-needed sleep. 

* * *

"I'm going to kill her. She said she'd take care of everything. 'Don't worry about it, big brother. Write something nice to say to Nick, dress yourself up and show up on time'." 

Nick paused in his typing, about to tease Griff about little sisters, but Griff wasn't done. 

"Now look, she's got us doing more and more every day." 

The quiet menace in Griff's voice made Nick sit back in his chair. He had assumed that Griff was just being affectionately grumpy in that way he had about a lot of things concerning Giselle. But, real anger seemed to have crept in around the edges. 

They had been spending the morning writing. At least, Nick had been writing, Griff had mostly been staring at his computer screen while Nick typed. 

"What now?" Nick ventured. 

"I just got another email, this time saying that since now she can only come out for the day, she wants Mom to stay here, instead of the hotel room that they were going to share." 

"So? We have the room." 

"That's not the point!" 

"Griffin..." 

Griff got up, pacing the room, radiating tension. 

"Writer's block?" 

"What?" 

"You're a little...edgy, and you don't seem to have gotten much writing done today. I was wondering if maybe you're stuck on something in your story." 

"No...uh...yeah." 

"Want me to take a look?" 

"No! I'll just give it a rest for the day." 

"Okay," Nick said, shutting off his own computer, already resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be able to concentrate enough now to follow the thread of where his own work had been going. "Why don't we--" 

"I'm going out." 

It's that story, Nick thought, as the door to the condo closed with a bang. Griff dealing with writing about what had happened to him. It had seemed to be going easily enough at first--Griff settling into his typical 'busy writer' pattern. But the past month, Griff did more staring than writing, preoccupied beyond the usual developing storylines and characterization. And though he may have been obsessing over it, he wasn't talking about it. 

Nick wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard the front door open and the rustle of bags, but then, Griff came into their office, bringing with him a mouth-watering, steamy aroma. 

"Baked potato soup or hamburger stew?" Griff asked, tray in hand that held two bowls and a basket of crusty rolls. 

Nick took his pick, settling at his desk. "Thanks." 

"Sorry." 

"For what?" Nick asked, dipping a piece of bread into his stew. 

"Being...shitty. It's just...you know how I hate deadlines. I need to get so much done by the time I leave for New York for Gigi's show, and I had planned on her taking care of the details for our thing. I'm just feeling the pressure." 

Sipping his soup, Nick let himself be convinced. "Stop worrying. It's all set, right? We just have to get your mother and she'll stay here. No big deal." He peered at Griff, eyes intent, but alight with a sparkle of amusement. "Sure you're not just stuck trying to think up something good to say at the ceremony?" 

"Are you kidding? I could write a novel about how much I love you." 

"Yeah? And I always thought your tendencies ran towards smut when it came to me." Griff was grinning, and it was so good to see. Easy to let concerns melt away in the face of Griff smiling and relaxed, and to tease about the sexy snippets that Griff had written ages ago, and which they had acted out on more than one occasion. 

"Well, I didn't say that there wouldn't be some, uh, 'explicit' scenes in that novel." 

"Show me what you're talking about," Nick purred, pushing his food aside and leading Griff from the room. And he had to laugh when Griff tugged him in the direction of the kitchen. 

* * *

It was the beginning of summer, but the temperature in Cascade was still cool, especially on the water, yet it was pleasant enough. It had been a fantastic evening, Simon thought. Starry skies and a full moon being the least of it. The ceremony, with Griff and Nick both obviously happy and in love, sharing testament of their feelings with the few privileged to attend was part of it. As was meeting Lillian Paris, who was no where near as intimidating as Simon had imagined, and who was not intimidated by him, either, the way a lot of people usually were. She had seemed genuinely pleased to meet him, not at all disapproving of the older man that had taken up with her daughter. They had had an enjoyable conversation, just the two of them, as they had waited for dinner to be served, cleverly left alone by Giselle who busied herself playing hostess. Lillian had asked to see pictures of Darryl, and proudly, Simon had pulled out his wallet where several photographs of his son, from infancy to high school, were displayed in plastic sleeves. 

But, of course, the best part of the evening, Simon admitted, was at the moment standing right next to him on deck, watching the water. He took a few token puffs on his cigar, just to top off his pleasure of being with Giselle, letting the night's breeze carry the smoke out to sea. He listened to the musical sound as she laughed at something that Blair said to her, and as usual it made him smile. 

As if in response, she smiled up at him when Blair walked away. "Having fun?" 

"It's great. Nice night. Fine boat. Your brother and Nick look very happy." 

"I'm so thrilled for them. Griffin, well, he hasn't always had luck in the relationship department, but with Nick, I think he's hit the jackpot." 

Which reminded Simon that he hadn't had a minute alone with Giselle since she'd been there, so no real chance to tell her some of what had been on his mind. She had flown in that day, and had an early flight out in the morning. Her little retrospective exhibit at a friend's gallery had snowballed into something major, and she needed to get back to finish up some of her new work. This trip wouldn't yield him much in the way of privacy with her, but he was flying out in a week, so he could handle it then... _would_ handle it. 

"It's always nice when things work out," he said, putting an arm around her. 

"Right," Giselle laughed, "look at us. Who would have thought that an upstanding police captain would be interested in a sassy Southern girl who draws naked men for a living?" 

"I think the question would more likely be: Who would have thought that a beautiful, young artist would be interested in a cranky old cop?" 

"Ah...does someone still have a hang-up about my age?" 

"No," Simon answered, adding, "not anymore." 

"Why, Captain Banks, we've come a long way." 

But still not far enough, Simon thought. "Yes, we have," he said aloud. 

"Sorry about my crazy schedule. I've missed you." 

"I'd be the first to acknowledge that sometimes work is unavoidable, but it's great having you here now. What...um...where are you staying tonight?" 

"Well, I'm staying at Griff's with Mom. Griff and Nick are spending the night here on the boat, and you know that Mom's going back with me to stay until after the opening. But, if you drive us to the condo, I'm sure my mother will take the hint and go on to bed, leaving us to make out on the couch for a while. Might even remind you of your teenage years, huh?" She laughed again, making Simon's insides tingle. 

"It's not...I mean..." 

"Simon," Giselle said, speaking softly, "it's okay to miss more than my smile, you know." 

"Yeah, well, I do, but wanting to spend time alone with you isn't because...isn't _just_ because of that." 

Slipping her arm around Simon's waist, Giselle gave him a little squeeze. "You're so sweet." 

Simon felt heat rise from his belly to his face. He wasn't really shy, but he did feel a little self-conscious where Giselle was concerned because she was friends with Jim and Blair, who was friends with her brother, so he was never sure what details they were privy to. The few times he had confided in Jim, he had always wondered afterwards if that information would make its way back to Giselle somehow. It was unsettling in a way he hadn't had to deal with before. 

They heard sounds of the gathering breaking up and turned from the moonlit water. 

"Looks like it's time to go. Still like a ride to Griff's place?" 

"Yes, and I hope that means you'll be joining me on the couch." 

Simon followed her to where Lillian and Griff were standing, shaking his head in mock exasperation, secretly pleased and, if forced to admit it, already aroused. 

* * *

Nick sighed, wondering what time it was. The gentle motion of the boat was doing nothing to help him sleep, though Griff was already snoring softly beside him. For the past few hours, he had been trying without success to get his brain to settle down. The ceremony had turned out well, and it had truly been what he wanted. Griff had been more like his old self, and it had seemed nothing could ruin it. Until, they'd been alone in bed, teasing each other about having a 'honeymoon' night, letting soft kisses grow deeper, taking it further with caresses and gropes, until their bodies were crying for relief. Making love to Griffin...there were no words to describe it satisfactorily. And, oh, Nick had been looking forward to it that night. But, just like too many instances in recent memory, Griff had somehow subtly maneuvered a shift in the action, twisting just so, pushing gently right there, until Nick was on his back with Griff gaining entry inside, going so slowly, as if needing to be extra-careful. And though the pleasure rolled through him in intense waves, it didn't feel quite right when it was over, when they were lying together, trying to calm their hearts. 

It wasn't about who did who, Nick reasoned as he turned on his side, his back to Griff who already had his back to him, it was the how and why of it. And, it seemed obvious to Nick that Griff was having some issues about sex, more than likely because of memories brought up by writing about the rape. A date gone terribly wrong. A famous friend who took unfair advantage, and who had only ended up paying for his crimes when a few women had stepped forward, though Griff never had. Griff's initial reaction had been to get drunk and go on a sexual spree, engaging in encounters where he felt in power and in control. Nick hadn't understood the true struggle involved the first time that Griff had offered himself when making love. At the time, he had thought Griff was only trying to deal with falling in love. Over time, the basic story, along with other bits and pieces had been revealed. 

Of course, now Griff wasn't revealing a thing, and Nick really wanted Griff to open up to him. He had thought that maybe that night the tide would start turning. A special occasion, away from home, the whole idea of celebrating their love. But, that hadn't been the case. 

The problem was what would go down if Griff didn't find a way to handle his emotions concerning what had happened to him? 

He rolled over, deliberately spooning up behind Griff, willing sleep to come. 

* * *

Giselle joined the throng spilling from the subway, mind preoccupied, feet moving on auto-pilot towards the exit. She felt...high with happiness. Her mother had gotten off safely, and was flying back to Atlanta at that very moment. The opening of the art exhibit had gone extremely well, providing good publicity both for Giselle and the gallery. It made all of the extra time that she had had to put in producing new pieces totally worthwhile. Personally, she thought that the prices put on her work were too high, but if people were willing to pay good money, which evidently they were, who was she to argue? And, it had been nice to expand her showing to include non-erotic work and see that also well received. Even some of the earlier pieces that had been put out only for display had generated inquiries. She couldn't wait to tease Jim about the large amount of money someone had been willing to pay for the painting of him and Griff. 

Smiling, she climbed the stairs to her building, finally acknowledging the other reason she was feeling a little giddy. Simon was there...well, would be there in about an hour. All hers for the next six days. It had been so hard to leave Cascade and leave him behind. During her time there, she had settled into a comfortable space of friends, family, and work. And her lover...a police captain nearly twenty years her senior. Truthfully, she hadn't really expected anything to come of it, nothing major anyway. She had always been drawn to men more like Blair. Then again, like with Blair, those men had often turned out to be gay, so nothing major had ever come of those, either. 

But, Simon...it had been so surprising. Blair had called saying that he wanted to give her phone number to someone he thought she'd like. No pressure, just a nice guy, another person she would know when she got to Cascade. So, Simon had called, sounding hesitant and polite, but interesting enough to keep her attention, and, yes, definitely a decent guy. By the time that she had moved into her brother's guestroom, the dozen or so pleasant conversations she'd had with Simon had easily segued into the idea of them spending time together as friends. 

But, things had changed. Initially, she had worried about the situation being too one-sided, sure that if she spent a lot of time with Simon, he would start to like her much more than she would be able to reciprocate. An older man infatuated with a young woman. She knew that men found her attractive, found her feisty nature challenging, and imagined that Simon would as well. Added to that was that she had kept her feelings in check for so long, she wasn't sure she would even be capable of being seriously involved with someone. It made her angry that she was still affected by a mistake made when she had been young and nave, falling in love with a snake who had cheated on her and gotten someone else pregnant in the process. Years later, she still avoided getting close. 

With Simon, it had been her feistiness that had moved them along in a certain direction. He had insinuated that she could never be interested in a man so much older, a by-the-book policeman, and she had bristled at the idea that he would think her so shallow, wondering if he had a problem with her age or what she did to earn her living. So, she had pushed a little, wanting to prove that they _could_ see each other as something more than friends. It had progressed so easily that a year together had seemed to fly by. But, suddenly she had been faced with the prospect of moving back to New York City, to the opposite coast from a man she'd grown to love, and up until the last minute, she had been ready for Simon to ask her to stay. 

The night at Rainier, the unveiling of her year-long project, she had waited for him to bring it up in some way. He had seemed agitated and preoccupied for weeks beforehand, and she assumed it had something to do with her. But, their time had come and gone, she had flown back, returning to the apartment that she had sublet during her absence, and decided that she could be mature enough to handle a long distance relationship. There was no need to be juvenile and clingy. Simon hadn't said anything about not seeing each other anymore, in fact, he had been eager to make plans to visit her. Already, he had made several weekend trips, and she looked forward to each one. Lately, she had been thinking maybe she could make a move back to Cascade, a permanent one. An artist could work just about anywhere, and being a part of New York's 'art scene' didn't mean as much as Jim and Blair, or Griff and Nick, or Simon and his son, Darryl. Friends, family, a lover. 

A lover who would be there any minute. She jumped into the shower, changed into something sexy, but not overtly seductive, and sat down to wait. They hadn't been alone together for months, unless you counted that crazy little make-out session on Griff's couch, which she didn't. And she was in the mood to ruffle Simon's usually controlled demeanor. He was so restrained most of the time, so much a gentleman. Not that Simon wasn't great in bed, because he was, but she sometimes felt he held back out of deference to her, even though she had told him on more than one occasion that that wasn't necessary. 

There was a knock on the door, and she opened it, stepping back just enough to let Simon inside where he dropped his bag. 

"Hey." 

"Hungry?" she asked, helping him out of his jacket. 

"Uh..." Simon coughed, clearing his throat. 

"Glass of water or anything?" Giselle turned her attention to unbuckling Simon's pants. 

"Um..." 

With one hand behind Simon's neck, bringing his face closer for a kiss, Giselle slipped her other hand inside his pants, feeling him hard and large in her hand, as his tongue invaded her mouth. She squeezed, fitting him to her fist, and he responded by putting both hands on her ass. 

Together, they made their way to the couch, Giselle already wet and throbbing, determined that Captain Banks would check his restraint at the door, and get down and dirty on her living room couch. She pushed his pants to the floor, straddling his lap when he was seated, thinking of nothing more than him inside her, making him come hard, lose control. Her own control slipped when Simon's hand made its way between them, rubbing her just right as she rode up and down, and he made a noise she had never heard him from before as they went over the edge together. 

"I have to say," Simon said when he was finally able to speak, "that was some welcome." 

"My pleasure." 

"How about that food and water? Something to help me recover." 

"Hey, it's your vacation. We can do whatever you want." She kissed him quickly on the lips, before getting up, and shedding the rest of her clothes. With a sexy smile, she guided him to the bathroom so they could clean up a little before she helped Simon enjoy his vacation some more. 

* * *

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Jim asked, stepping into Simon's office, trying not to grimace at the aches in his body. He had hoped to turn in his report and leave the station without having to talk to anyone. What he wanted was a hot shower and the chance to get himself together before seeing Blair. 

"Close the door, Jim, and sit down." Simon waited until Jim was seated, before saying, "I heard you had a close call out there today." 

Definitely not a question, and though Jim hesitated, he was too worn out to even come up with a good bluff. "Um...yeah. I guess my senses went a little screwy on me." 

Simon's gaze was hard, but familiar. "What does Sandburg say?" 

The comment only served to agitate Jim's already frazzled state, worried as he was about Blair's reaction. "Sandburg is not my keeper!" 

"The hell he's not. You should know that by now. Talk to him. Get whatever it is fixed. I mean it." 

"Yes, sir," Jim replied. Deciding there was no point in arguing, he stood, ready to leave. 

"Oh, Jim, have you or Sandburg heard anything from Giselle lately?" 

Surprised, Jim answered, "No, why?" 

"Nothing. She...I was supposed to go see her this weekend, but she canceled on me. She said it was just work, so it's probably nothing." 

Jim was startled by the nakedly hopeful expression on Simon's face. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Simon," he said, hoping it was true. 

Simon's features went blank, though his nervous fidgeting with the papers on his desk still gave him away. "All right. Get out of here. I expect you to take care of your problem, or you'll be riding a desk. Is that clear?" 

"Perfectly, sir." 

Despite himself, Jim was curious about what might be going on with Giselle, but dismissed the idea of questioning Blair about it. That would probably only lead to meddling on Blair's part, and Jim was trying to break him of the habit...even though, admittedly, Blair's instincts were usually right. Furthermore, he told himself, no need to stir Blair up at all. As long as he was extra careful, Jim thought he could work out his senses problem on his own. Anything to avoid weeks of Blair's lectures and tests and relentless blue eyes assessing his every move. He was sure there was nothing to worry about. 

* * *

Giselle felt sick to her stomach, and not because of her physical condition, but the ensuing stress. She felt incredibly stupid, remembering with vivid clarity now her reckless act, though it truly hadn't occurred to her at the time, or evidently, to Simon either. It wasn't until later, cleaning up after Simon's visit, that she picked up a stray condom packet from the floor near the bed, smiling as she went to put it away in the drawer where she kept them. They had had an incredible time, enthusiastically pursuing physical pleasure, from the minute he'd stepped foot in the apartment, when she had-- 

The truth hit her with a sickening rush. She had dropped to the bed, a hand to her mouth, willing herself not to panic or jump to conclusions. It didn't have to mean anything. They had always been up-front with one another about the health issue, but had never discussed children, playing safe as a matter of course. Anxiously, she had waited it out, taking a pregnancy test a few weeks later, which had turned out negative. She had been totally agitated the next time Simon visited, but kept the reason to herself. It wasn't long after that that it became apparent maybe she should take another test, and she wasn't surprised at all by the positive result. 

She had canceled Simon's last scheduled visit, needing more time to come to terms with everything. But when Simon had called, she found she couldn't talk to him, didn't know what to say beyond the obvious, and then what? In her fantasies, she imagined going to him with his baby son or daughter, not asking or demanding anything, but offering him a woman who loved him and a chance to be in his child's life. Though, it seemed ridiculous to think he would just welcome her with open arms. Sure, he wouldn't deny his own child, but what about her? 

In retrospect, it all could be misconstrued as some sort of trap. After all, she had been the one to practically jump him at the door, initiating unprotected sex. How fake would it sound now to take the plunge and say that she had fallen in love with him, been in love with him since before she'd left Cascade? 

Too late for that. She had made a mistake, but she wasn't some kid, she was a grown woman who could take care of herself, and would take care of her child, as well. The doctor had said that because of fibroid tumors that she had never had removed, she needed to be careful. So, she would focus on that, on her health and that of her unborn baby. 

God, what would her mother do when she found out? Hopefully the idea of finally being a grandmother would offset what a mess the rest of it was. But, whatever might happen, the important thing was the baby. Okay, Giselle, no more brooding, you'll just upset yourself. 

A fresh wave of nausea hit her, but she could tell that it wasn't stress, just plain, old ordinary morning sickness. Sighing, she got up, making it to the bathroom just in time. 

* * *

"Thank you for calling." 

"What was that about?" 

Griff turned around, his face collapsing into a frown. "It was a hospital in New York about Gigi. She's been taken there, and they say they're going to have to give her blood." 

"What's going on?" 

"I'm not exactly sure. But, they said, so far the baby's fine." 

"Baby?" Nick got to his feet. 

"God, I have got to get out there. I guess...I'll call Mom when I'm there, and have more details." He picked up the phone, making a call. "Yes, I need to make reservations to JFK." 

"Two," Nick whispered from beside him, ignoring the look of surprise on Griff's face. 

Their relationship hadn't been quite right, Nick knew. The weight of what Griff wouldn't talk about had settled between them, huge and solid. Once, Nick had brought it up, but Griff had make quick assurances that he was totally fine, so Nick hadn't pushed, hoping that Griff would eventually come to him and open up voluntarily. But, so far, that hadn't happened. 

Griff left the room, and Nick followed, going to pack. 

A baby. 

"You okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just can't believe all this with Gigi." 

Griff sounded shaken, and without hesitation, Nick hugged him, holding tightly for a few moments. "Well, let's go see about her." 

Placing a soft kiss behind Nick's ear, Griff said, "Thanks. I know that I..." But he cut it off, only repeating "Thanks" again, as he pulled underwear out of his drawer. 

"You're welcome," Nick responded, stuffing his own underwear into a bag. 

Silence descended as they packed the rest of their clothes, but Nick felt that at least some of their recent strain had eased. 

* * *

* * *

A tall, thin man, wearing a white coat and the practiced reassuring air of a physician, walked up to the group of men assembled in the waiting area. His voice was heavily accented when he spoke. 

"Mr. Paris, we seem to have isolated the source of infection and we expect the new medication to do the trick. If all goes well, she should be able to be discharged by the end of the week." 

"Thank you, Dr. Chopra," Griff said, standing. 

"Is there a Simon here?" 

Simon cleared his throat as four sets of eyes turned on him. "Uh, that's me." 

"She would like you to go in." The doctor nodded at the men and doubled back to the nurses' station. 

"You're not going in there." Griff had stepped in front of Simon, and was looking up at him with open hostility. 

"Griffin, she asked to see me, and I--" 

"I don't care." Griff didn't raise his voice, but his tone was unmistakable. "She doesn't need to be upset, and obviously, something is fucked up between the two of you. Leave her alone for right now." 

"This isn't any of your business," Simon said, feeling as stunned as Jim, Blair and Nick looked. 

"I'm making it my business, Simon. I'm warning you." 

"Griffin..." Nick moved to Griff's side, but Griff didn't look his way. 

"What do you think you're going to do?" Simon asked, tensing, seeming even taller as he peered down at Griff. 

Jim moved between them. "This is a _hospital_. You two back off." 

Nick simply grabbed Griff by the arm and tugged, jerking harder when Griff didn't want to budge, and pulled him over to a nearby door, pushing him into an empty stairwell. 

"This has _got_ to stop, Griffin. You're getting out of control, and you need to deal with this thing." 

"She's my sister, and Simon--" 

"No," Nick interrupted, "I mean the _real_ thing. The date rape, Griffin. You've been writing the book, and you're not handling it well. You've got so much anger built up inside, and I've been trying to let you deal with it on your own, but it's starting to get to me." 

"Okay, I may have gotten carried away out there just now, but don't act like I've been going around getting in _your_ face." 

"Well, you haven't been yelling or trying to push me around or anything, but don't think that I haven't noticed what you have been doing with me. That the only way we have sex anymore is if you get to do me, and always with this distance, like you're working hard _not_ to take your anger out on me. You've brought it to our bed, and you won't talk to me about it. You might as well be fucking strangers. So, enough, okay? Talk to Jim, go to counseling, do _something_. Please, do something to help yourself." 

Griff's face was ashen, his expression stricken. "I...I..." 

"Griffin, I love you. I'm worried about you." 

"I...I..." Griff seemed at a total loss for words, then he settled on, "I'm going to go call my mother. She needs to know about Gigi." 

With a sigh, Nick slumped back against the concrete wall. "Right. Fine." He listened to Griff's footsteps echo in the stairwell, then the clang of the door closing on the floor below. 

* * *

Giselle seemed to look better already to Simon, especially since she was awake this time, looking at him with a tiny smile. 

"Hi." Her voice was a little weak, but she didn't falter. "I guess we need to talk, huh?" 

Shaking his head, Simon sat in the chair near the bed. "Just...you just concentrate on getting better." 

"I'll be okay. I'll just need to take it easy for a while. Like the next four months." 

Concerned, Simon started to speak, but Giselle went on. 

"Simon, I owe you a whole lot of explanations, and this is not at all how I wanted to do this. Not that what I had planned was the best idea, anyway." 

"Why didn't you just tell me?" 

"The truth? Because I loved you, but we had never talked about it...about being together, and then I come up pregnant, and I didn't want you to feel obligated to be with me, or think that I had done it on purpose. I made myself believe that if I came to you one day with your son or daughter, you'd...I don't know." 

"I would have..." Simon said, his words raspy with emotion. "I should have asked you to stay in Cascade in the first place instead of letting you leave, pretending it was okay, because, honestly, I love you, too, and I didn't want you to go. But, since my divorce, my personal life hasn't been much, and then Blair pushes me at you, and I never expected it to be anything like it turned out to be. I wasn't sure what to do about it. But, all that matters now is for you to be well. You and the baby. And I'll do whatever I have to to make everything work out." 

"Simon, how are we going to make any of it work out now?" 

"We'll find a way. But, we'll talk about it later. The doctor says you need to rest." 

"I am tired," she said, definitely sounding it. "I want you to know that I'm not expecting--" 

"Yes, you are," Simon said, smiling, cutting her off, "and I'm going to be a father." 

"Hmm," Giselle murmured, eyes closing, already mostly asleep. 

Simon sat with her for a little while longer, then left the room, bracing himself for another confrontation with Griff, but was relieved when he only found Jim and Blair seated in chairs waiting for him. 

* * *

Griff called Nick from a cab on route to the airport. After exiting the stairwell, he had found himself walking out of the hospital, hailing a taxi before he'd really even thought about it, but quickly decided that he was going to see his mother. He didn't want to give her any news over the phone, he rationalized, not admitting that there was more to it. Nick hadn't questioned him, promising to keep an eye on Giselle, but Griff could feel the strain through the phone lines. All his fault, but, on the flight to Atlanta, he determined to put that out of his mind. 

Using his key to enter his mother's house, he called out, announcing his arrival. 

Lillian Paris appeared, her brow wrinkled in confusion at the sight of her son. "Griff, baby, what are you doing here? I didn't know you were going to be in town. You should know better than to surprise an old lady. Do you want to give me a heart attack?" She hugged him with a smile. 

"Sorry, I just got in, came straight from the airport." 

"Son, is there something wrong?" 

"It's...come on, let's sit down." He led her to the kitchen, waited until they were sitting around the table. "Have you talked to Gigi lately?" 

Instantly, her face creased with worry. "All right. What is this about? You tell me right now." 

"She's in the hospital." 

Lillian clutched a hand to her chest, eyebrows raised in shock. 

"She's pregnant," Griff continued, "and she developed complications. They had to give her blood. I didn't want to tell you over the phone. She had asked me not to worry you at all, but, you know..." 

"Oh my lord, give me a minute to throw some things together. You call the hospital and let me talk to either a doctor or my daughter." 

She went upstairs and Griff could hear the faint sounds of her moving around. His heart was pounding and he couldn't get it to stop. The thought was running through his head that he was fucking up badly with Nick, and he couldn't make that stop, either. 

"Son? What is it?" He looked over to see his mother standing there with a suitcase in her hand, and a jacket draped over her arm. "Did you talk to the hospital? Did something else happen?" 

Griff swallowed hard, surprised at the wet burning in his eyes. "No, uh, I'll call now," he said, getting up and going over to the wall phone. 

Restlessly, he paced a little as Lillian talked to Giselle, tuning out until she ended the conversation. 

"Sometimes your sister is too strong-willed for her own good. Can't imagine what she was thinking, keeping something like that from Simon. She said the doctors are optimistic, now that they have the infection under control. But, she'll have to be extra careful if she doesn't want to lose that baby." Sighing, she added, "A grandbaby," before sitting down next to Griff. "Now, Griffin Augustus Paris, you tell me what's going on with you." She cupped a hand to Griff's cheek, caressing softly. "I can tell it's something more than what you've already told me. Is Nicky all right?" 

"Yeah, Ma, he's fine. Look, why don't we get going to the airport?" 

"Please talk to me. Whatever it is, it's eating you up." 

"I...I'm having trouble handling something and it's started to come between me and Nico." 

"Handling what?" 

Griff closed his eyes, remembering, not wanting to talk about it, but feeling compelled to unburden at last. 'You might as well be fucking strangers,' Nick had said to him, and it wasn't like he hadn't tried. Twice, he'd found his way to Apex, looking for an anonymous fuck with some big man, the way he had when the rape first happened, but he hadn't been able to do it, killed him he had even considered it. Foolishly, he hadn't expected Nick to notice that he didn't want to bottom anymore, or how tight a hold he kept on his emotions so that he didn't lose control when doing Nick. 

"It started back on that tour," he said, hoping his voice wouldn't crack. "Remember that one that I cut short in Dallas, and I came back here? I had plans with a friend...a guy that I had dated for a while before, and sometime that night, he slipped a drug in my drink." 

And he told her the whole story, every detail about drunkenly fucking his way across country, about coming on to Jim in a moment of desperation, about Nick stepping into his life and how at first he'd been sure that that new love would make it all better. How writing the book hadn't helped him work through it the way he'd hoped, but had only increased the depth of the anger and contempt he felt for himself for not coming forward, facing his attacker, and seeing justice done. 

"Griffin, why didn't you ever tell me?" She hugged him to her, and Griff held on, feeling very, very tired. "So what are you going to do?" she asked after a while. "Just let this destroy what you and Nicky have?" 

"It's not that simple." 

"But, is it so complicated? You have people that love you, and you work at something you love. You had something terrible happen to you, but you don't have to sacrifice the rest of your life to it." 

Griff was quiet, thinking--simple or complicated, he knew that Nick and his mother were right about one thing...the first step was for him to _do_ something, something positive, instead of destructive. "I'm going to take you to see about your daughter, and then I better talk to Nick. I know that I'll need some professional counseling to deal with how pissed off I feel all the time. And maybe, I can find a way to help other victims--I feel I need to somehow make up for the fact that I never came forward to prevent it happening to someone else." 

"Sounds like a start. You're a good man, Griffin. Don't ever forget that." 

He kissed her cheek, closing his eyes at the familiar warmth and scent of her, a combination that he would always associate with feeling at home. "Thanks." 

"Even though I try not to interfere with you kids, I'm still your mother, and I'm always here. And now, I'll have a grandchild to meddle with." She stood, breathing a deep sigh. "Thank god, Giselle's all right." 

'Amen,' Griff thought, picking up his mother's suitcase, offering up a little private thanks that Lillian Paris was all right, too. 

* * *

Jim tried not to pace; though he could feel the tension coiling in his belly. Only another ten minutes or so and then Blair would be home. His hands shook with the waiting. 

Their first day back in Cascade, and Jim had spent it catching up on paperwork at the station. Blair had gone to the university for some meetings, and was running late. 'Be there by seven' had been the message waiting for Jim when he got home. 

Five more minutes. Jim closed his eyes, listening. 

And then there it was--the grumble of Blair's engine, the ticking and whirring of the car settling, the little grunt as Blair hefted his bag. The jingle of keys, the faint whisper of hair skimming a collar and denim-clad thighs brushing briefly together as Blair got out of the car, the clunk of the door closing. A quick greeting to someone passing by, the thump of booted feet coming up the stairs, not running, but with a deliberate speed, down the hall, then keys jingling again--right there, so close--Jim had the door open before Blair could reach for the lock. 

Blair didn't even look surprised when Jim threw open the door, and pulled him in. With serious eyes, he put his hands on Jim's face, but only had a second to study it before their lips met, and Jim was kissing him with purpose. For long moments, they just stood there, kissing by the door, neither seeming to want to move from that spot, spoil the moment. Eventually, Jim eased the bag from Blair's shoulder, letting it fall to the floor, breaking the kiss only long enough to smile at Blair, a familiar, loving expression that made Blair's heart skip a beat. Moving his hands down until he found the bare skin beneath the tank top that Jim wore, Blair traced his fingers over the landscape of Jim's muscles, his cock lengthening when Jim gave a hum of pure satisfaction. 

With both hands, Jim pushed Blair's jacket off, nimble, knowing fingers unbuttoning the white shirt Blair wore, to track through the softly crisp hair on Blair's chest to a nipple, hardening the nub with a pinch, swallowing Blair's gasp with his kiss. 

But, Blair seemed to lose patience first, baring Jim's chest, dropping down to tongue the trail his fingers had taken over Jim's abs, hastily stripping Jim of his navy blue sweatpants. Only to spur Jim into action, who made quick work of Blair's clothes: hiking boots, argyle socks, tan khakis, and the oxford shirt disposed of in rapid succession. Dropping to his knees, Jim slowly lowered Blair's boxers until the thick hardness of Blair's cock popped free, sucking it in to the music of Blair's groans, the touch of Blair's fingers skimming through his hair, the steady pumping rhythm of Blair's hips as Blair made love to his mouth. 

It almost made Blair ache to look down and watch Jim's mouth working him, made his balls tight, his ass clench, and he had to close his eyes when Jim looked up, arousal and hunger clearly evident in the blue depths, just so he wouldn't come right then and there. And, oh fuck, Jim was lapping at his balls, the air cold on the wet shaft of his abandoned dick, and he felt not just desired, but loved, and he didn't want to come, he wanted to hold onto that feeling. He pulled back a little to tease Jim, but Jim just used his lips and tongue to prolong contact until it was Blair who felt teased, weak in the knees, his hands grasping what it could of Jim's hair as he slid down the door to the floor. 

Blair was getting close, Jim could hear it in Blair's voice, could feel the throb of it against his tongue, could sense the dizzying rush of blood, and he pulled away in time to watch the release, the gush and splatter of semen, the grimace of agonized pleasure on Blair's face, before licking up some of the spill from Blair's navel, and moving up to kiss him to share the taste. And, even though he hadn't yet come, Jim felt as if the edge had been taken off, that desperate sense of urgency he'd felt while waiting for Blair to get home, and his insides finally relaxed, ready for whatever would happen next. 

"Welcome home," he said, easing off of his knees down onto the floor next to Blair. 

Blair had to pant to get his words out. "Glad to see me, huh?" 

"Didn't mean to pounce on you like that. I guess with all that's going on with Griff and Nick, and Simon and Gigi, I needed..." 

"I know, I know. But we're cool right, you and me?" 

"I'd say that we're more than cool." Downright hot, actually Jim thought, as he slowly stood, extending a hand to help Blair up. 

Jim locked the door, but left their clothes piled where they had fallen, and led Blair upstairs to bed, only mildly surprised when Blair pushed him back, settling between his legs, and his stiff dick was incredibly grateful when it felt the welcome heat of Blair's mouth. He bit down on his lip, trying to contain the wave of desire that surged upward from his balls, fought to swallow the scream that had lodged in his throat. 

Suffused with an intense craving, Blair got Jim to turn over, got him to his knees and parted the firm cheeks of Jim's ass, probing inside with his tongue, loving how Jim moved against him, thrilling to the sweet, rough sounds that Jim made, the sort of noises that had gotten to him from the very beginning. And, man, Jim was so...open to him, ass spread, hole wide, groaning lustily. He pushed one finger easily inside, then two, slick from his saliva. Jim bit down on the mattress with a deep rumbling sound, and Blair pushed in another finger, pumped them a little, watching them go in and out, feeling the heat of Jim around them, and his cock hit his belly, bobbing in anticipation. 

Quickly, he scrambled for supplies. Jim was stroking his own cock, and Blair let him, wanting only to get deeply inside Jim as fast he could, grunting gratifyingly when he at last slid home. His hands were on Jim's hips, and he was driving into Jim hard enough to make the bed shake with every thrust, staccato cries of 'ah' and 'oh' filling the air along with the scent of sweaty sex and male heat. Despite his earlier climax, Blair could tell that he wouldn't last, and too soon, he was saying, 'yes, yes, fuck yes!', hips picking up speed, Jim's ass so, so tight around him, and his toes curling spastically as he breathlessly surrendered. He pulled out, chest heaving, and turned Jim onto his side, grabbing Jim's still-hard cock, pumping it firmly, plunging one finger into Jim's ass for good measure, rubbing Jim's prostate until Jim came messily all over the bed. 

It didn't take long before they fell asleep, unconcerned about cleaning up or eating dinner or anything other then the strength of the connection between them. 

* * *

Nick was at the window, looking out at the city, when Griff walked into the hotel room. He felt an overwhelming rush of relief at seeing Nick still there, though it was only his own guilt that had given him doubts. 

"Hey," he said, walking up to Nick, close but not touching. 

"Hi." 

"I left my mother at the hospital. She's going to stay at Gigi's place. I got Simon a room here and he's finally getting some rest." 

"That's good. How about you? You can take a shower, and I'll order up something to eat, then you can get some sleep, too, if you want." 

"Sure. Um, Nico, I know that I fucked up...again, but, believe me, I want to fix things between us." 

"You didn't fuck up, Griffin. I understand that it's a difficult situation for you, but you can't go on letting it all simmer inside you the way you have." 

"I had a little talk with my mother, and I'm going to see somebody when we get back, and you and me, we're going to talk about it, too." 

"Good, that would be good," Nick said, smiling in a way that made Griff feel very warm. "So, about that shower...want company?" 

Griff couldn't keep the surprise from showing on his face. "Really? I mean...maybe...you don't..." 

"You saying that you don't want to be with me?" A welcome, teasing glint in Nick's eyes, and Griff relaxed. 

"I don't want to be with anybody else." 

"Then, come on. I think we have some making up to do." 

Under the spray of the shower, Griff took a moment to just watch Nick, naked and beautiful, then he was touching him, kissing him, sucking a nipple, taking his time, so slow, so gentle. And, to Nick it was so fucking sweet, so damned exciting, totally different from Griff's restrained anger of late. It felt loving in a way that he had sorely missed, in a way that left him quivering inside, eager for more. 

The water cascaded over them, a gentle massage, providing heat for their bodies, and taste as Nick squatted down to suck Griff's dick, and friction as he jerked his own wet cock. But, soon, Griff had reversed them, pressing Nick against the tile, licking him from belly button to balls, before taking Nick deep into his throat, working his muscles around the hard shaft, finding that that wasn't enough, and turning Nick around, tonguing away the moisture in the crack of Nick's ass, squeezing a cheek with one hand, pulling on Nick's dick with the other. 

Which wasn't enough for Nick, who wanted his hands full of Griff. He tugged upwards so that they were leaning into one another, fucking each other's fists, mouths close together, more breathing and licking than actual kissing, but that was finally enough to make them both come hard, spraying the tile with sperm that the water slowly washed away. 

When they dried off, they both felt a little as if some of their emotional baggage had been washed away as well. 

* * *

Three weeks away from the station and nothing had changed. Paperwork still didn't just do itself, and the Chief of Police still yelled too loudly first thing in the morning. But, Major Crime was also still putting away bad guys, so that was saying something, in fact, that was saying a lot. 

"So?" 

Simon looked up at the voice, finding Jim had poked his head into the office. For a second, Simon stared, slightly annoyed, but then waved Jim inside. Not surprisingly, Blair came in right on Jim's heels. Folding his hands in front of him, Simon tried on his customary glare, but found his heart wasn't in it. 

"So...I'm back, and everything here seems to have carried on just fine in my absence. Congratulations on the Rowe case, by the way. Now, as for the rest, this is really not the right place for this conversation, but I don't want Sandburg wasting time wondering what's going on, or bugging Giselle about it." 

"Whoa, Simon!" 

Simon quieted Blair with a look and continued. "We're still working it out. I'm going to go back near time for the baby to be born. After that, I hope we'll be together somewhere." 

"Not Cascade?" 

"We're discussing the possibilities, Sandburg. Obviously, there's a lot involved. Now, that's the end of that discussion." He held up a file. "So, what's this about the disappearance of a Rainier student?" 

"We've got it narrowed down to two possibilities," Jim said. "Got 'em waiting it out in Rooms One and Three. I'm pretty sure one of them will crack before the lawyers show up." 

"Yeah, Dawson in Room Three," Blair said. "He knows something, and he seems shook up enough to want to ease his conscience." 

"Okay, then, let's get back to police business, shall we?" 

Jim and Blair stood to leave, but Jim paused. "Simon, about Griff..." 

"No need," Simon said, holding a hand to forestall any discussion. "He explained a little about what was going on. I didn't know that he was still having trouble with it. We...we're okay." 

Jim nodded. "Come on, Chief, I think we have a case to wrap up." 

"Um, congratulations, Simon, on...everything," Blair said, spreading his hands, indicating just what Simon wasn't sure. 

"Thanks, Sandburg," Simon replied, just a little gruffly, and silently dismissed the two men by turning his attention to the stack of folders on his desk. 

* * *

Simon was stalling and he knew it. Darryl had been there for almost two weeks and was leaving the next day to spend the rest of the winter break with his mother before going back to school. 'Now's the time,' Simon told himself. 

He knocked on the bedroom door. "Hey, Darryl," he called out, trying to be heard over the beat of music in his son's room. "Can you come out here for a minute?" 

"Yeah, Dad?" 

The walls seemed to vibrate and Simon winced at the noise, feeling a bit old, especially when he noticed how tall Darryl had gotten, how his face had matured, down to the mustache he was trying to grow, though so far it was little more than fuzz. 

"I need to talk to you...and what ever happened to using headphones?" 

"Sorry. What's up?" 

"Let's go sit downstairs," Simon said, already starting down. "Want a soda?" 

"No thanks. Did Mom call and say something about not being around next week?" 

"No, nothing like that. Actually, it's about Giselle." 

They sat down, sinking into the plump leather cushions. 

"What? Is she sick again?" 

"Well, she wasn't really sick. I mean, not _just_ sick. She's, um, going to have a baby." 

"For real?" 

Simon nodded, waiting for his son's reaction. 

"Wow, what, your condom break or something, or did you guys mean for that to happen?" 

"Darryl!" 

"I was just asking," Darryl said with a dismissive shrug and a cocky grin. "I mean, if I came to you and said something like that..." 

"I'm the father here. All you need to know is that she's pregnant, there were some complications, and she's doing much better. But, I thought you should know that I asked her to marry me, and I hope you'll be okay with that, and with your future brother or sister." 

"Wait until I tell Mom about this." 

"Don't say anything to your mother. I'll tell her myself...eventually." 

"Yeah, yeah, okay. So, when are you getting married?" 

"Giselle told me that she doesn't need to get married, but we...we plan on being together." 

"Really? Well, how does it feel knowing you're going to be a father again?" 

"Scary, if you want to know the truth. I realize that I made a lot of mistakes with you, with your mother. I hope that I've learned enough so that I don't repeat them. I don't want to fail this time." 

"Dad, come on. You didn't fail. Look at me. I didn't turn out so bad, right? In spite of the divorce, in spite of whatever you think you didn't do right." 

"I think you've grown into a fine, young man." 

"And I think you're a good father. I think Mom is a good parent, too. Just because the two of you didn't make it together doesn't mean that you both didn't do okay by me. It was a little crazy there for a while, and I know that I added to it by being a brat. When you guys split up, I was mad and scared, but I got over it." 

Simon shook his head, not convinced. "I spent too much time at work, not enough with either of you." 

"Maybe, but I was always proud of you being a cop, even when I didn't want to be. Mom was too, you know." Darryl gave another shrug. "And, if you can spend more time with Giselle and the new baby, all the better. But, you're not ready to retire, are you?" 

"I've considered it. I'm still not sure what'll happen, but, whatever I do, I'll spend more time at home this time around." 

"Can I call her?" 

"Who?" 

"Giselle...to say congratulations and to offer my baby-sitting services." 

"You want to do that?" 

"Yeah. I mean, she's okay with me, isn't she?" 

Simon slid closer to his son, hugging him. "She loves you. I do, too." 

"Okay, now I hope you remember this conversation and how understanding I was in case I come to you one day with the same kind of news." 

Simon turned his hug into a playful squeeze. "Right. You better be out of school, working steady, and living in your own place. Hear me?" 

"Yes, sir, Captain, sir," Darryl laughed. "Don't worry, I got my shit straight." Eyeing his father, he offered another shrug, this time in apology. 

Letting Darryl go, Simon let the language go as well. "No problem. Why don't we go out for dinner tonight?" 

"Sounds good, let me make a phone call first." He reached for the phone, dialed out. "Hello, Mom? Dad's got something to tell you." And he was smirking as he held out the phone. "Your children always keep you on your toes, Dad," he whispered, "better remember that." 

Clearing his throat, Simon took the phone and got up, watching Darryl stretch out on the couch, putting his feet up, sneakers and all. Shaking his head with affectionate exasperation, he smiled to himself at the idea of Darryl being a big brother. "Um, hello, Joan? Yeah, I was going to talk to you about this later, but since Darryl got you on the phone, I have some news...." 

* * *

Sometimes, he really hated Cascade, Jim decided, grimacing through the pain. Something was going to have to go--either him, or the endless parade of criminals that kept popping up in his jurisdiction. One more case like this latest one and he would be dead. 

His gut clenched at the awful truth of that--the cries of scared children distracting him, his vision so out of his control that he hadn't even seen the shooter turn on him, the sudden impact of Blair knocking him aside, the searing pain of a bullet hitting his leg, a leg that had already suffered damage years before, the sickening realization of how easily it could have been Blair hit, a few seconds later, a few inches over, bleeding to death at Jim's feet. 

With a shudder, he battled a wave of nausea. It took a while, long moments of deep breathing, but it finally passed. He couldn't even dial down his senses enough to dull the blare of the siren as the ambulance rushed him to Cascade General, because he couldn't bear to tune out the labored sound of Blair's breathing. The wound in his leg, sharp and fresh with the promise of weeks of discomfort ahead, didn't bother him half as much as the agitated hitching coming from Blair. 

"Chief." Shit, it even hurt to talk. 

As if he had been waiting for such a signal, Blair leaned close, speaking in a fierce whisper that felt hot against Jim's cheek. "What the fuck was that, Jim? You didn't even _see_ that guy!" 

Jim knew it was way past time to face the music, unable to deny that he definitely owed Blair the truth. He swallowed, trying to ease the way for his words. "I've been having some trouble for a while with my sight...sometimes hearing." 

Sputtering, Blair choked out, "As soon as you're better, I'm gonna kick your ass. Fuck, Simon's probably gonna _my_ ass, _today_." 

Jim was saved from further comments when the ambulance braked to a stop, and his head pounded in the abrupt quiet when the siren was turned off. The EMT's hustled him into the hospital, and he submitted to the attentions of the medical staff, all too aware of Blair's presence. He hadn't heard the end of any of it, he knew, but he was able to get some small satisfaction that at least Blair was breathing normally again. 

* * *

"It's a girl," Blair said, walking into the room with a grin. "Lily Simone." 

"Yeah, I just hung up from Simon. Five pounds, but doing all right. Simon'll be back in a few weeks, and he said Giselle and the baby will move out here as soon as they can." 

"Wow. I never expected anything like this when I slipped Simon her phone number that day in his office." 

"Life's full of surprises, huh?" 

Blair's grin dropped away. "Yeah...like why you would _lie_ to me about something like your senses screwing up." 

Jim had been out of Cascade General and in the rehabilitation hospital for three weeks, and was due to be discharged in a few days, though his physical therapy was far from over. And, while he had seen Blair every day, Blair had done little more than ask questions about Jim's sensory problems, taking lots of notes. There hadn't been any lectures or arguments, and Jim had assumed he had simply gotten off easy. 

"I didn't really know what was going on at first. I thought it was just stress and everything." 

"Okay, listen, I shouldn't have to tell you this after all this time, but you could get fucking killed when your senses aren't working right. Case in point," he indicated Jim in the hospital bed. "That was too close, Jim. Even if I didn't love you like crazy, I would be pissed, okay? So, you're going to work your ass off and get that leg back in shape, and then your ass is mine, and we're going to test the _shit_ out of your senses." 

"Blair..." 

"From what you told me," Blair said, ignoring Jim's interruption, "I think that your eyesight has been weakening, and your hearing has been trying to compensate whenever you try to zoom your sight in on something it can no longer register. We just need to help you learn to adjust to the differences. You can work with this, no problem. Okay?" 

"Okay." 

Blair was quiet after that, holding Jim's hand a little under the covers while they watched news on the television hanging from the ceiling. Whatever Blair wanted, Jim knew he would do, and truthfully, he felt he had gotten off easy after all. 

* * *

Simon climbed into bed, trying not to wake Giselle, but she turned to him as soon as he was settled. 

"Everything okay?" she asked, not sounding at all as if she had been sleeping. 

"Yep. I just like to...you know." 

Giselle kissed him on the cheek. "She'll be screaming her head off in about three hours. We're supposed to rest whenever she does." 

"I know, I know. She's just so tiny. I like to check." 

"She's fine, Simon, really. She came through like a trooper." 

"Yeah. Perfect. Beautiful. Thank god she looks like her mother, instead of me." 

"She'll have your intimidating manner, I'm sure. She already has your bellow down pat." 

Giselle laughed, and Simon's answering laugh was rich, deep, and heartfelt. He could remember the early days with Joan after Darryl had been born, but he had been a seriously overworked detective then, his time limited mostly to brief moments in the dark to watch his son sleeping before stumbling off to bed for a few hours sleep himself. He had been happy then, too, and so incredibly proud. His son. Amazed at what he and Joan had created. Lily was even more of a miracle to him, and he didn't mind three am feedings or smelly diapers or the sound of his daughter's cry. It would be different with her and with Giselle, he promised. A second chance. Not many people got that, and he had no intentions of wasting it. God knows he had wasted enough time where Giselle was concerned already. 

"You feeling all right?" he asked her, rubbing his large hands along the indent of her spine, feeling the warmth of her under his fingertips. 

"Fine. Just tired." 

"Are you sure you don't want your mother to come stay for a while and help out? I don't mind her being here." 

"No, I'm good. I'm not fragile, Simon. I can do this. I _want_ to do this, take care of her, of you. But, later," she added, "after the operation, I'll let Mom come fuss over her grandchild to her heart's content," speaking of when she would have her fibroids removed. 

"Okay. Have I told you lately that I love you?" 

"As a matter of fact, yes. But don't let that stop you." 

"I love you." 

"I love you back." 

Giselle had said that she didn't need to get married, didn't need 'a piece of paper' to dictate the depth of their commitment to each other and their child. That Lily Simone Banks would have two loving parents without legal, social, or religious strictures being placed on them. Simon had accepted that, didn't doubt her presence in his life in any way, but he had bought her a ring, and he planned to give it to her at dinner the next day as a Valentine's gift, and hoped she would take it as a symbol of his feelings. 

He sighed when she snuggled closer to him, teasing him with wandering fingers. They hadn't had sex, physically Giselle wasn't yet up to it, and Simon was trying not to think about it, knowing that it was too soon. He kissed her, stilled her hand, and luxuriated in the joy of holding her. It was just the beginning, after all. He had time--a lifetime to spend with Lily and Giselle, with Darryl who was still amazing to him, and with the other people that had seen past his gruff defenses to consider him a friend. This time, he would make every moment count. 

* * *

Nick forced himself not to move when he heard Griff come home, not rush to the door with questions. Instead, he concentrated on the stack of papers in front of him that he had just removed from the printer tray. Staring at the first page, he fought to smother a grin and lost. His first novel finally completed. It was good, he thought, but he was still a lot nervous about sending it off. 

"Does that silly grin mean you're all done with your revisions?" 

He lost a further battle with his face, smiling wider as he watched Griff walking into the room. "Yeah, for what it's worth." 

"It's good, Nico, you know that." 

Rolling his eyes, Nick replied, "Your bias is showing." 

"Maybe, but it's only the truth." 

"So, how'd it go?" Nick asked, changing the subject, finally giving into the urge to question. 

Griff squeezed his shoulder. "Fine, Nico. It's all going fine. I...still don't like it much, but it does help, I think." 

Nick thought so, too. In the months that Griff had been in therapy, the most obvious sign had been the absence of rage. There had been silences in the beginning, long uncomfortable stretches where Griff seemed to withdraw from everything, but those, too, seemed to have passed. They hadn't quite regained their equilibrium in the bedroom, but Nick hadn't brought it up, not wanting Griff to feel pressured in any way. 

"I'm not worried," he ended up saying, staring down at the stacked pages of his novel. "I'm very proud of you. I'm--" He stopped, a little choked up, because though he had never considered not being with Griff, he had been concerned in the beginning that maybe as Griff worked through it, it wouldn't bring them closer together, but drive them further apart, and he was suddenly grateful for the solid feel of Griff there, just standing next to him. 

"You were worried, you just never said." 

"I wasn't going to leave you, Griffin. And, I wasn't going to let you leave me. We'd already done that. It was totally fucked." 

"Speaking of which..." 

Nick looked up, frowning. "What? Us breaking up?" 

"No." Griff walked away, sat down at his own desk. "Fucking." 

Instantly, Nick's stomach dropped. He didn't want to have that conversation, was half angry with himself for how much he had really missed doing certain things with Griff. "We're fine in that department," he hedged. 

"Nico, I love you being inside me. I miss it." 

It was stupid, so stupid, but Nick felt like he was going to cry. "Our sex life is good. I love whatever we do, however we do it. That's not why I was upset before. I don't need--" 

"But you want it, and so do I. And, I want you to know that it's okay. You were right, I had issues before, but--" 

Nick got up, went to kneel beside Griff's chair. "I love you. I just love you. But, okay, I hear you." 

Kissing the top of Nick's head, Griff said, "So, how about we go pack." With a rustle of paper, he waved two tickets under Nick's nose. 

"San Francisco?" 

"It's Valentine's Day. Let's go celebrate. Do something wild and fun." 

"I thought we were just going to spend a quiet night here." 

"I'm thinking more of fine dining, dancing all night, and a Jacuzzi suite on the water." 

Getting up, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth, Nick said, "I'd be crazy to say no to a plan like that. 

"There's one more thing," Griff said, and Nick's smile faded away at the tone. 

"What?" 

In answer, Griff pulled an envelope out of his pocket, and held it out. "This was in today's mail." 

Nick took it, recognizing the handwriting, not to mention the return address. "My mom." 

"Uh huh. You going to open it?" 

"Uh huh." But, for a full minute he just held it in his hand, not moving. Then, he ripped it open, pulling the letter free, and read the short message. He read it once more to himself, then, translating from Spanish, out loud to Griff. His mother saying congratulations that he was almost finished his book, because she knew how much he had always wanted to write, how writing made him happy, how much she had always wanted him to be happy. And, the next time he was in Houston, she hoped to see him and his special friend. 

"Well." The only comment that came to Griff's mind. 

"Well, it's a start," Nick said, unsure how he felt about the unexpected response from his mother. He had sent so many letters, informing her of his life, sparing her no detail of what he wanted to share, what he would have shared willingly in person, if she had been able to accept him, accept his lover. Truthfully, he had long ago given up on her ever contacting him. "Wanna go?" 

"Think she means it?" 

"I think it'll be hard for her. It's taken her this long just to write me back." 

Rising, Griff drew Nick into an embrace. "I...tried to stay out of it, and I was so upset for you, but I was glad that you didn't let her attitude sway you." 

"Griffin, I love my mother, I really do, but I'm _gay_ and all my life I've sheltered her from that. The time had come for me to stop. I'm in love with a semi-good looking, somewhat talented, often infuriating man who deserves someone that won't hide him." 

"I'll ignore that only because I love you so much." 

"Come on. Eat. Pack. We have a flight to catch and some celebrating to do. Hey, I think you should wear that red G-string that I gave you last year." 

"What? After you just insulted me? You'll be lucky if you get within touching distance of my fine ass, much less get to see it in all its glory." 

Nick followed Griff out of the room, laughing. "Somehow I'm sure I can come up with a few ways to get back on your good side." 

Griff laughed, too, turned and grabbed Nick's hand, pulling Nick with him. 

"No, no, not the _kitchen_. We have a plane--" 

The words were cut off with a kiss, resulting in a series of moans and groans, leaving food and packing to be momentarily forgotten. 

* * *

Blair started the truck and looked over as Jim buckled his seat belt. "I think maybe your dad actually likes me now." 

"I guess he's trying." 

"Jim, give the guy a break. It's been a long time since you two have had any conflicts." 

"No, I know. We're...we're good. It was nice of him to have us over for dinner, considering the occasion." 

"I never thought I'd be spending Valentine's Day with your father. But, hey, it was a milestone... another year of you being with me. Not too shabby, huh?" 

"Somebody's got to put up with a schmuck like you." 

"Takes one to know one." 

"You got me there." 

They drove along for a while, silently taking in the passing houses, the familiar streets, the lights of the city they called home. It was a comforting silence, but Jim wasn't too surprised that Blair broke it. 

"You know, I've been thinking." 

"Uh oh." 

"Very funny. Since your leg is coming along nicely, maybe we could take a trip, someplace quiet and secluded where we could do some serious tests on your senses." 

"Okay," Jim said after a moment. "Where do you want to go?" 

"Uh, I was thinking...maybe finding a place in the Catskills." Blair didn't look at him, and Jim couldn't help but notice Blair's hands momentarily gripping the steering wheel tight enough to whiten his knuckles. 

"Ah." Jim didn't make any other comment, he had known sooner or later, Blair would get curious enough about the man Naomi said could be his father. 

"And, you know, since we'll be in the area, I could look into things...see what I can find out about Daniel Green." 

Instinctively, Jim knew he shouldn't make a big fuss about it, not say 'about time', or question whether Blair was really ready to learn the truth. "Sounds like a plan." 

"Okay, and thanks...for going along with me." 

"Word on the street is that you're probably stuck with me for the rest of your life, Chief." 

"Yeah, I heard that somewhere, too." 

When Jim looked over, Blair was wearing a goofy, lovesick grin that he knew matched the expression on his own face. "Hey, speaking of plans," he said, deciding to have a little fun. "You know how we've been kind of kicking around the idea of buying a new place? Stephen had an idea we could consider." 

Jim jerked his head to the side, and Blair followed the motion, staring at the Ellison house, and Jim grinned to himself when he saw realization dawn on Blair's face. 

"You're joking, right? Tell me you're kidding." 

"It was just a thought. He's all alone, and we are looking for a bigger place." 

"No offense, Jim, I know we've all been getting along like one big happy family, but I think that the first time I wanted to fuck you over the kitchen table, it might get a little awkward for your dad." 

'Never mess with a master', Jim thought, caught between a laughing fit and a coughing spell. "Uh...I think you have a point," he finally managed. 

"No shit. Now... ever since your injury, our sexual activity has been somewhat limited, but since you're obviously feeling better, I think we should fix that situation, do something a little crazy, like as soon as we get home. How's that for a plan?" 

"Not bad as plans go. So, let's see--you're offering sex, an investigation, and sentinel tests. That sounds familiar. Sounds like my _life_." 

"Hey, let's not forget the part where I love you, mister." Very softly, adding, "For real, forever." 

"Same here, Chief," Jim said, closing his eyes, trying hard to contain the vast depth of emotion that had flooded him at hearing Blair's words. 

Oh yes, that was his life. Blair. For real. Forever. 

**THE END!**

* * *

End And Love Will Forever Reign by J.C.: jazzedup@prodigy.net

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Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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